All My Sons

  CHRIS: Don’t you think Annie looks well?

  MOTHER: Fine. There’s no question about it. She’s a beauty . . . I still don’t know what brought her here. Not that I’m not glad to see her, but . . .

  CHRIS: I just thought we’d all like to see each other again. Mother just looks at him, nodding ever so slightly—almost as though admitting something. And I wanted to see her myself.

  MOTHER—her nods halt. To Keller: The only thing is I think her nose got longer. But I’ll always love that girl. She’s one that didn’t jump into bed with somebody else as soon as it happened with her fella.

  KELLER, as though that were impossible for Annie: Oh, what’re you . . . ?

  MOTHER: Never mind. Most of them didn’t wait till the telegrams were opened. I’m just glad she came, so you can see I’m not completely out of my mind. Sits, and rapidly breaks stringbeans in the pot.

  CHRIS: Just because she isn’t married doesn’t mean she’s been mourning Larry.

  MOTHER, with an undercurrent of observation: Why then isn’t she?

  CHRIS, a little flustered: Well . . . it could’ve been any number of things.

  MOTHER, directly at him: Like what, for instance?

  CHRIS, embarrassed, but standing his ground: I don’t know. Whatever it is. Can I get you an aspirin? Mother puts her hand to her head.

  MOTHER—she gets up and goes aimlessly toward the trees on rising: It’s not like a headache.

  KELLER: You don’t sleep, that’s why. She’s wearing out more bedroom slippers than shoes.

  MOTHER: I had a terrible night. She stops moving. I never had a night like that.

  CHRIS, looks at Keller: What was it, Mom? Did you dream?

  MOTHER: More, more than a dream.

  CHRIS, hesitantly: About Larry?

  MOTHER: I was fast asleep, and . . . Raising her arm over the audience: Remember the way he used to fly low past the house when he was in training? When we used to see his face in the cockpit going by? That’s the way I saw him. Only high up. Way, way up, where the clouds are. He was so real I could reach out and touch him. And suddenly he started to fall. And crying, crying to me . . . Mom, Mom! I could hear him like he was in the room. Mom! . . . it was his voice! If I could touch him I knew I could stop him, if I could only . . . Breaks off, allowing her outstretched hand to fall. I woke up and it was so funny . . . The wind . . . it was like the roaring of his engine. I came out here . . . I must’ve still been half asleep. I could hear that roaring like he was going by. The tree snapped right in front of me . . . and I like . . . came awake. She is looking at tree. She suddenly realizes something, turns with a reprimanding finger shaking slightly at Keller. See? We should never have planted that tree. I said so in the first place; it was too soon to plant a tree for him.

  CHRIS, alarmed: Too soon!

  MOTHER, angering: We rushed into it. Everybody was in such a hurry to bury him. I said not to plant it yet. To Keller: I told you to . . . !

  CHRIS: Mother, Mother! She looks into his face. The wind blew it down. What significance has that got? What are you talking about? Mother, please . . . Don’t go through it all again, will you? It’s no good, it doesn’t accomplish anything. I’ve been thinking, y’know?—maybe we ought to put our minds to forgetting him?

  MOTHER: That’s the third time you’ve said that this week.

  CHRIS: Because it’s not right; we never took up our lives again. We’re like at a railroad station waiting for a train that never comes in.

  MOTHER, presses top of her head: Get me an aspirin, heh?

  CHRIS: Sure, and let’s break out of this, heh, Mom? I thought the four of us might go out to dinner a couple of nights, maybe go dancing out at the shore.

  MOTHER: Fine. To Keller: We can do it tonight.

  KELLER: Swell with me!

  CHRIS: Sure, let’s have some fun. To Mother: You’ll start with this aspirin. He goes up and into house with new spirit. Her smile vanishes.

  MOTHER, with an accusing undertone: Why did he invite her here?

  KELLER: Why does that bother you?

  MOTHER: She’s been in New York three and a half years, why all of a sudden . . . ?

  KELLER: Well, maybe . . . maybe he just wanted to see her . . .

  MOTHER: Nobody comes seven hundred miles “just to see.”

  KELLER: What do you mean? He lived next door to the girl all his life, why shouldn’t he want to see her again? Mother looks at him critically. Don’t look at me like that, he didn’t tell me any more than he told you.

  MOTHER, a warning and a question: He’s not going to marry her.

  KELLER: How do you know he’s even thinking of it?

  MOTHER: It’s got that about it.

  KELLER, sharply watching her reaction: Well? So what?

  MOTHER, alarmed: What’s going on here, Joe?

  KELLER: Now listen, kid . . .

  MOTHER, avoiding contact with him: She’s not his girl, Joe; she knows she’s not.

  KELLER: You can’t read her mind.

  MOTHER: Then why is she still single? New York is full of men, why isn’t she married? Pause. Probably a hundred people told her she’s foolish, but she’s waited.

  KELLER: How do you know why she waited?

  MOTHER: She knows what I know, that’s why. She’s faithful as a rock. In my worst moments, I think of her waiting, and I know again that I’m right.

  KELLER: Look, it’s a nice day. What are we arguing for?

  MOTHER, warningly: Nobody in this house dast take her faith away, Joe. Strangers might. But not his father, not his brother.

  KELLER, exasperated: What do you want me to do? What do you want?

  MOTHER: I want you to act like he’s coming back. Both of you. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you since Chris invited her. I won’t stand for any nonsense.

  KELLER: But, Kate . . .

  MOTHER: Because if he’s not coming back, then I’ll kill myself! Laugh. Laugh at me. She points to tree. But why did that happen the very night she came back? Laugh, but there are meanings in such things. She goes to sleep in his room and his memorial breaks in pieces. Look at it; look. She sits on bench at his left. Joe . . .

  KELLER: Calm yourself.

  MOTHER: Believe with me, Joe. I can’t stand all alone.

  KELLER: Calm yourself.

  MOTHER: Only last week a man turned up in Detroit, missing longer than Larry. You read it yourself.

  KELLER: All right, all right, calm yourself.

  MOTHER: You above all have got to believe, you . . .

  KELLER, rises: Why me above all?

  MOTHER: . . . Just don’t stop believing . . .

  KELLER: What does that mean, me above all? Bert comes rushing on from left.

  BERT: Mr. Keller! Say, Mr. Keller . . . Pointing up driveway: Tommy just said it again!

  KELLER, not remembering any of it: Said what? . . . Who? . . .

  BERT: The dirty word.

  KELLER: Oh. Well . . .

  BERT: Gee, aren’t you going to arrest him? I warned him.

  MOTHER, with suddenness: Stop that, Bert. Go home. Bert backs up, as she advances. There’s no jail here.

  KELLER, as though to say, “Oh-what-the-hell-let-him-believe-there-is”: Kate . . .

  MOTHER, turning on Keller, furiously: There’s no jail here! I want you to stop that jail business! He turns, shamed, but peeved.

  BERT, past her to Keller: He’s right across the street . . .

  MOTHER: Go home, Bert.

  Bert turns around and goes up driveway. She is shaken. Her speech is bitten off, extremely urgent.

  I want you to stop that, Joe. That whole jail business!

  KELLER, alarmed, therefore angered: Look at you, look at you shaking.

  MOTHER trying to control herself, moving about
clasping her hands: I can’t help it.

  KELLER: What have I got to hide? What the hell is the matter with you, Kate?

  MOTHER: I didn’t say you had anything to hide, I’m just telling you to stop it! Now stop it!

  As Ann and Chris appear on porch. Ann is twenty-six, gentle but despite herself capable of holding fast to what she knows. Chris opens door for her.

  ANN: Hya, Joe! She leads off a general laugh that is not self-conscious because they know one another too well.

  CHRIS, bringing Ann down, with an outstretched, chivalric arm: Take a breath of that air, kid. You never get air like that in New York.

  MOTHER, genuinely overcome with it: Annie, where did you get that dress!

  ANN: I couldn’t resist. I’m taking it right off before I ruin it. Swings around. How’s that for three weeks’ salary?

  MOTHER, to Keller: Isn’t she the most . . . ? To Ann: It’s gorgeous, simply gor . . .

  CHRIS, to Mother: No kidding, now, isn’t she the prettiest gal you ever saw?

  MOTHER, caught short by his obvious admiration, she finds herself reaching out for a glass of water and aspirin in his hand, and . . . : You gained a little weight, didn’t you, darling? She gulps pill and drinks.

  ANN: It comes and goes.

  KELLER: Look how nice her legs turned out!

  ANN—she runs to fence, left: Boy, the poplars got thick, didn’t they?

  KELLER, moves upstage to settee and sits: Well, it’s three years, Annie. We’re gettin’ old, kid.

  MOTHER: How does Mom like New York? Ann keeps looking through trees.

  ANN, a little hurt: Why’d they take our hammock away?

  KELLER: Oh, no, it broke. Couple of years ago.

  MOTHER: What broke? He had one of his light lunches and flopped into it.

  ANN—she laughs and turns back toward Jim’s yard. . . . : Oh, excuse me! Jim has come to fence and is looking over it. He is smoking a cigar. As she cries out, he comes on around on stage.

  JIM: How do you do. To Chris: She looks very intelligent!

  CHRIS: Ann, this is Jim . . . Doctor Bayliss.

  ANN, shaking Jim’s hand: Oh sure, he writes a lot about you.

  JIM: Don’t believe it. He likes everybody. In the Battalion he was known as Mother McKeller.

  ANN: I can believe it . . . You know—? To Mother: It’s so strange seeing him come out of that yard. To Chris: I guess I never grew up. It almost seems that Mom and Pop are in there now. And you and my brother doing Algebra, and Larry trying to copy my home-work. Gosh, those dear dead days beyond recall.

  JIM: Well, I hope that doesn’t mean you want me to move out?

  SUE, calling from off left: Jim, come in here! Mr. Hubbard is on the phone!

  JIM: I told you I don’t want . . .

  SUE, commandingly sweet: Please, dear! Please!!

  JIM, resigned: All right, Susie. . . . Trailing off: All right, all right. . . . To Ann: I’ve only met you, Ann, but if I may offer you a piece of advice—When you marry, never—even in your mind—never count your husband’s money.

  SUE, from off: Jim?!

  JIM: At once! Turns and goes left. At once. He exits left.

  MOTHER—Ann is looking at her. She speaks meaningfully: I told her to take up the guitar. It’d be a common interest for them. They laugh. Well, he loves the guitar!

  ANN—as though to overcome Mother, she becomes suddenly lively, crosses to Keller on settee, sits on his lap: Let’s eat at the shore tonight! Raise some hell around here, like we used to before Larry went!

  MOTHER, emotionally: You think of him! You see? Triumphantly: She thinks of him!

  ANN, with an uncomprehending smile: What do you mean, Kate?

  MOTHER: Nothing. Just that you . . . remember him, he’s in your thoughts.

  ANN: That’s a funny thing to say; how could I help remembering him?

  MOTHER—it is drawing to a head the wrong way for her; she starts anew. She rises and comes to Ann: Did you hang up your things?

  ANN: Yeah . . . To Chris: Say, you’ve sure gone in for clothes. I could hardly find room in the closet.

  MOTHER: No, don’t you remember? That’s Larry’s room.

  ANN: You mean . . . they’re Larry’s?

  MOTHER: Didn’t you recognize them?

  ANN, slowly rising, a little embarrassed: Well, it never occurred to me that you’d . . . I mean the shoes are all shined.

  MOTHER: Yes, dear. Slight pause. Ann can’t stop staring at her. Mother breaks it by speaking with the relish of gossip, putting her arm around Ann and walking stage left with her. For so long I’ve been aching for a nice conversation with you, Annie. Tell me something.

  ANN: What?

  MOTHER: I don’t know. Something nice.

  CHRIS, wryly: She means do you go out much?

  MOTHER: Oh, shut up.

  KELLER: And are any of them serious?

  MOTHER, laughing, sits in her chair: Why don’t you both choke?

  KELLER: Annie, you can’t go into a restaurant with that woman any more. In five minutes thirty-nine strange people are sitting at the table telling her their life story.

  MOTHER: If I can’t ask Annie a personal question . . .

  KELLER: Askin’ is all right, but don’t beat her over the head. You’re beatin’ her, you’re beatin’ her. They are laughing.

  ANN, to Mother. Takes pan of beans off stool, puts them on floor under chair and sits: Don’t let them bulldoze you. Ask me anything you like. What do you want to know, Kate? Come on, let’s gossip.

  MOTHER, to Chris and Keller: She’s the only one is got any sense. To Ann: Your mother . . . she’s not getting a divorce, heh?

  ANN: No, she’s calmed down about it now. I think when he gets out they’ll probably live together. In New York, of course.

  MOTHER: That’s fine. Because your father is still . . . I mean he’s a decent man after all is said and done.

  ANN: I don’t care. She can take him back if she likes.

  MOTHER: And you? You . . . Shakes her head negatively . . . go out much? Slight pause.

  ANN, delicately: You mean am I still waiting for him?

  MOTHER: Well, no, I don’t expect you to wait for him but . . .

  ANN, kindly: But that’s what you mean, isn’t it?

  MOTHER: . . . Well . . . yes.

  ANN: Well, I’m not, Kate.

  MOTHER, faintly: You’re not?

  ANN: Isn’t it ridiculous? You don’t really imagine he’s . . . ?

  MOTHER: I know, dear, but don’t say it’s ridiculous, because the papers were full of it; I don’t know about New York, but there was half a page about a man missing even longer than Larry, and he turned up from Burma.

  CHRIS, coming to Ann: He couldn’t have wanted to come home very badly, Mom.

  MOTHER: Don’t be so smart.

  CHRIS: You can have a helluva time in Burma.

  ANN, rises and swings around in back of Chris: So I’ve heard.

  CHRIS: Mother, I’ll bet you money that you’re the only woman in the country who after three years is still . . .

  MOTHER: You’re sure?

  CHRIS: Yes, I am.

  MOTHER: Well, if you’re sure then you’re sure. She turns her head away an instant. They don’t say it on the radio but I’m sure that in the dark at night they’re still waiting for their sons.

  CHRIS: Mother, you’re absolutely—

  MOTHER, waving him off: Don’t be so damned smart! Now stop it! Slight pause. There are just a few things you don’t know. All of you. And I’ll tell you one of them, Annie. Deep, deep in your heart you’ve always been waiting for him.

  ANN, resolutely: No, Kate.

  MOTHER, with increasing demand: But deep in your heart, Annie!

  CHRIS: She ought to know, sh
ouldn’t she?

  MOTHER: Don’t let them tell you what to think. Listen to your heart. Only your heart.

  ANN: Why does your heart tell you he’s alive?

  MOTHER: Because he has to be.

  ANN: But why, Kate?

  MOTHER, going to her: Because certain things have to be, and certain things can never be. Like the sun has to rise, it has to be. That’s why there’s God. Otherwise anything could happen. But there’s God, so certain things can never happen. I would know, Annie—just like I knew the day he—indicates Chris—went into that terrible battle. Did he write me? Was it in the papers? No, but that morning I couldn’t raise my head off the pillow. Ask Joe. Suddenly, I knew! I knew! And he was nearly killed that day. Ann, you know I’m right!

  ANN—she stands there in silence, then turns trembling, going upstage: No, Kate.

  MOTHER: I have to have some tea. Frank appears from left carrying ladder.

  FRANK: Annie! Coming down. How are you, gee whiz!

  ANN, taking his hand: Why, Frank, you’re losing your hair.

  KELLER: He’s got responsibility.

  FRANK: Gee whiz!

  KELLER: Without Frank the stars wouldn’t know when to come out.

  FRANK, laughs. To Ann: You look more womanly. You’ve matured. You . . .

  KELLER: Take it easy, Frank, you’re a married man.

  ANN, as they laugh: You still haberdashering?

  FRANK: Why not? Maybe I too can get to be president. How’s your brother? Got his degree, I hear.

  ANN: Oh, George has his own office now!

  FRANK: Don’t say! Funereally: And your dad? Is he . . . ?

  ANN, abruptly: Fine. I’ll be in to see Lydia.

  FRANK, sympathetically: How about it, does Dad expect a parole soon?

  ANN, with growing ill-ease: I really don’t know, I . . .

  FRANK, staunchly defending her father for her sake: I mean because I feel, y’know, that if an intelligent man like your father is put in prison, there ought to be a law that says either you execute him, or let him go after a year.

  CHRIS, interrupting: Want a hand with that ladder, Frank?

  FRANK, taking cue: That’s all right, I’ll . . . Picks up ladder. I’ll finish the horoscope tonight, Kate. Embarrassed: See you later, Ann, you look wonderful. He exits right. They look at Ann.